Harmony
by In Starlight and in Shadows
Summary: 6th year slight AU. H/Hr pining and fluff. Hermione sees Ron snogging Lavender and thinks Ron doesn't notice her because she isn't beautiful enough. When Harry tries to reassure her, he says more than he should have... A slow, sweet, romance story wherein Hermione is oblivious and Harry is adorable. Rated T for a little bit of smut.
1. Beautiful

**A/N: Hi everyone, I've decided that because this story has the rather uninspired title of 'Harmony', it should have a soundtrack. Therefor I'm going to match each chapter with one of my favorite songs, and if you're so inclined you can listen to them while you read it.**

**The song for this chapter is _Nothing I Can Do_, by Ben Taylor. Unfortunately I couldn't find any good versions of it on youtube, but the official music video is on dailymotion dot com, the third link down if you google 'nothing I can do Ben Taylor'. I definitely recommend you look it up, it's one of my absolute favorite love songs.**

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Harry sighed as he caught a glimpse of curly brown hair disappearing through the Gryffindor portrait hole. His gaze was drawn towards the far corner of the common room, where Ron and Lavender were having a somewhat obscene victory snog, and his jaw tightened in anger. He knew that Ron liked Hermione, and it was obvious that Hermione was in love with Ron, and yet there Ron was, blatantly making a prat of himself with his hands all over another girl. Harry just couldn't understand it. Yes, he knew his two best friends were currently fighting, but their fights were getting ridiculous. They fought over anything and everything because they couldn't talk about what was really going on between them. The sexual tension was driving them both spare, and Harry as well.

Harry hurried out the portrait hole after Hermione, resisting the urge to turn back and slap Ron upside the head for being an idiot, or maybe punching him in the jaw. Anything to make the stupid git _wake up._ He was going to lose Hermione before he even had a chance to really have her.

_Not that he would really mind, if she finally gave up on Ron…_ He shook his head to expel the dark thoughts that sometimes crept up on him. Harry had promised himself that he would never do anything to hurt Ron or Hermione, and if that meant repressing certain feelings for his female best friend… Well then, that was just the way it had to be. Ron and Hermione were the two most important people in his life, and he couldn't bear to lose either of them.

Harry had made a promise to himself years ago. As long as Ron was interested in Hermione, no one would ever know that Harry was in love with her.

Harry had first realized the depth of his feelings in fourth year, when Hermione had turned down his invitation to the yule ball. He hadn't expected to be so… disappointed. And jealous. Hermione had been precious to him since first year, but before the ball he hadn't realized that he might have been hoping to share more than just friendship with her. Unfortunately, around that time it had also become clear that Ron _liked_ Hermione, in _that_ way, and that Hermione had been hoping for Ron to ask her to the ball. Harry had just gotten Ron back as a friend, and he knew that if he confessed his feelings for Hermione he would probably lose them both. After all, why would Hermione ever choose _him_ over _Ron_? So he had kept silent and promised himself that he wouldn't stand in the way of their happiness.

Now, two years later, he was starting to regret that promise. Ron and Hermione were still dancing around each other, and Harry was caught in the middle. He honestly wasn't sure what was more painful, watching Hermione endlessly get hurt by Ron's idiocy, or imagining them finally getting together as a happy couple, as was inevitable. Everyone could see it but them.

Harry had tried to move on, he really had. He had pursued his doomed, fleeting attraction to Cho like it was a lifeline, and now he was considering finally asking Ginny out. He liked Ginny, she was pretty and intelligent and fun and she played quidditch. He would be crazy not to like her, but… he didn't love her. Hermione might as well be the only girl in the world, because whenever she was around he couldn't look at anyone else. No one else understood him the way Hermione did. She had unknowingly won his heart years ago, with her kindness and intelligence and unwavering friendship, and there was nothing he could do about it now.

Hermione had Harry's heart, but hers belonged to Ron… what a soap opera. Sometimes Harry felt like bashing his head against the wall. Being in love with his best friend was bloody frustrating.

With one last disgusted look at Ron, Harry followed Hermione out of the common room. He found her in the first unlocked classroom he came across, sitting on the teacher's desk, with a small flock of golden birds fluttering around her head. Harry couldn't help but admire her spellwork. She was so competent, that was one of the things he loved most about her, Hermione was no helpless damsel in distress. And she didn't giggle annoyingly, or simper like most girls.

She looked so beautiful with the moonlight glinting in her hair.

Harry wanted to bash his head against the wall again.

She looked up when he opened the door. "Oh, hello, Harry," she said, her voice brittle. "I was just practicing."

"Yeah, they're…err…really good."

He had no idea what to say to her. He was no good with emotional... stuff, even disregarding his personal stake in this matter. He hovered awkwardly just inside the door.

"Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations." Hermione said abruptly, her voice unnaturally high pitched.

"Er… does he?" Harry wanted to smack his head against the wall again. _Er does he?_ He was supposed to be comforting her, not making an arse of himself.

"Don't pretend you didn't see him," Hermione bit out. "He wasn't exactly hiding it, was - "

To Harry's horror, the door burst open and in came Ron, laughing and holding Lavender's hand.

"Oops," Lavender giggled, and Ron blinked in surprise.

"Er… Hi Harry, wondered where you got off to…" Ron said, deliberately not looking at Hermione.

Hermione hopped off the teacher's desk and stalked past both boys, back straight and head held high. Harry couldn't help but admire her dignity and grace, as well as the gentle sway of her hips.

"You shouldn't keep Lavender waiting," she said quietly, and walked past.

Ron looked relieved that nothing worse had happened, and Harry wanted to punch him again.

Just before she reached the door, Hermione suddenly whirled around, her face contorted with a wild mixture of pain and fury. "_Oppugno!"_ She shrieked, and the little golden birds she had conjured started to dive at Ron. He yelped and covered his face, while Hermione turned and ran from the room.

Harry immediately chased after her, not sparing Ron a second thought. Hermione would never do anything to permanently damage him. If Ron couldn't figure out how to deal with some conjured birds then he deserved all the peck-marks he got.

He caught a flash of movement disappearing around a corner, and finally found her curled into a ball in an empty alcove, sobbing quietly into her hands.

Harry hesitated. He really didn't know what to do with crying girls! After a moment of anxious deliberation, he sat down beside her, and awkwardly pulled her into his lap. She stiffened for a moment, and then relaxed into his embrace, burrowing her head into his chest and clutching his robes in her hands. He tried rubbing her back gently, and that seemed to help a bit. He knew he should say something to comfort her, but he didn't know what.

"Er… Ron's an idiot," he tried. This made her snort and laugh a little before she started crying even more. Okay, well that…kind of worked. "He doesn't even have the emotional range of a teaspoon, he has the emotional range of a toothpick." Hermione giggled wetly, and Harry smiled, warming to his subject. "He has all the emotional intelligence of a flobberworm." Hermione giggled again. "If a pink elephant held up a sign that said 'I love you Ron Weasley,' he'd say '_Bloody hell, a pink elephant with a sign!_' and completely miss the point." Harry wasn't really sure what he was saying, but Hermione was laughing helplessly, so he figured he must be doing something right.

"Harry," she gasped through her laughter, "sometimes I really love you."

Harry's stomach flipped, and then he winced, knowing she couldn't see his face.

_Not as much as I love you._

He tightened his arms around her momentarily.

"Feeling any better?" He asked.

"Yes," she whispered. "Thank you, for being such a good friend." She snuggled closer to him, and he couldn't help but notice how comfortably their bodies fit together.

They sat together in silence for a few moments with him gently running his hand up and down her spine, and Harry thought she might be falling asleep. He was just enjoying having her in his arms, and he didn't ever want to move.

"Harry?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah 'Mione?"

"Why doesn't he notice me? Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" She sounded near tears again, and Harry sucked in a breath.

"No!" He exclaimed, "Mione that's not it at all, he does notice you…"

"Because I know I'm not as pretty as Lavender, or, or Fleur Delacour," she continued in a whisper, "and he really only notices girls who are beautiful…"

"Hermione, stop." Harry cut her off firmly. He tilted her chin up to look at him. "You _are_ beautiful," he said fiercely, "more beautiful than Lavender or Fleur could ever be." He caught her eyes with his own, hoping she would be able to see his sincerity. He was worried that she might see more than he wanted her to, but he couldn't let her think she wasn't beautiful. Just the thought made him want to laugh hysterically. How could she be so oblivious to the effect she had on him? For someone so incredibly smart, sometimes she could be really dumb.

She smiled sadly at him. "That's sweet of you to say, Harry, but you don't have to tell me what you think I want to hear. I don't have any illusions about my body."

Harry almost growled in frustration. How could he make her understand without revealing too much?

"Listen Hermione, Lavender and Fleur… they're both very beautiful, no doubt about it, but not in the same way you are. Lavender is beautiful only because she tries so hard, I bet she spends hours every morning doing her hair and makeup. Fleur is gorgeous, yes, but most of that is just the veela allure, take that away and she's just a pretty girl. But you, 'Mione, are beautiful without even trying. You don't _need_ makeup or veela allure to make guys notice you."

She was staring at him with a doubtful expression, and Harry was getting desperate. He started to babble. "You have the most amazing hair, did you know? It's really soft, and it always smells really nice, how do you do that? And when you sit in the sun it has all these streaks of red and gold and it looks like you have a halo, or maybe like your head is on fire, but in a good way…" Hermione's lips twitched, and Harry was starting to panic but he just kept going. "Your eyes are really beautiful too, from far away they look brown, but they're not really, they're green and gold and amber and gray and I can always tell what you're feeling just by looking at them, they're the kind of eyes a bloke could get completely lost in." Harry was, in fact, starting to lose his train of thought as he looked into her aforementioned eyes. He knew that there was a line here that he shouldn't cross, but he couldn't remember exactly where that was…

He tucked her hair behind her ear, lightly tracing the shell as he did so, and then gently trailed his fingertips down her neck, making her shiver. She was staring at him with wide eyes now. "Your ears are nice too, so delicate…" Without conscious thought his hand came up to rest against her cheek, and his thumb stroked lightly over her bottom lip. She inhaled softly and her lips parted, ever so slightly. His eyes dropped down to consider her mouth. "And your lips," he mused, almost to himself. "Perfectly shaped…" He wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

Harry came back to himself with a jolt. What was he doing? Hermione was sitting on his lap, staring up at him with a dazed expression, and he was caressing her lips. He was supposed to be comforting her about Ron, his best friend, whom she was in love with. Harry pulled his hand away from her cheek. He blushed and a look of embarrassed panic crossed his face. He had to deflect her attention away from him, quickly!

"I know for a fact that Ron has definitely noticed you," he blurted out, "I think he's only doing this with Lavender to try and make you jealous."

Hermione blinked at him, and then shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts. She smiled hopefully. "Do you really think so?"

"I know so," said Harry, hoping she wouldn't notice how red his face was. "So don't worry, alright? He'll figure it out eventually and stop being such a prat."

She sighed and leaned her head against his chest again. "Thanks Harry, I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered.

_I love you,_ he thought, but all he said was, "I don't know what I'd do without you either."

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**A/N: Hi everyone, I seem to have fanfic ADD, I can't stick with one story or even one pairing, but oh well, I go where my muse takes me. This idea wouldn't leave my head, and if people want to read more I might expand it into an actual story with a happy ending. It would stick pretty closely to canon and then extend a bit beyond it, with more focus on the H/Hr relationship than an actual plot. I dislike stories where both Harry and Hermione suddenly wake up one day and decide they're in love with each other, so this would be a slow build up where Harry wins over her affections. I promise both humour and romance.**

**If you would be interested in reading something like that, or if you just like this as a oneshot, review and let me know :)**


	2. Practice

**A/N: The chapter was inspired by ****shyfoxling's "**Summer Shade", my favorite Lily/Severus story, it's beautiful and you should read it.

**Warning: mild smut ahead :)**

**The song for this chapter is _Lovesong_, by Adele.**

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Harry slumped over the kitchen table at the Burrow, cradling a large mug of tea in his hands. He was glad to be here, he really was, Merlin knew it was much better than being at the Dursleys', but the preparations for Bill and Fleur's wedding were seemingly endless and exhausting. Was so much pomp and circumstance really necessary to get married? He understood that it was supposed to be a special day, and that creating something beautiful in the middle of such a terrible time was important, but he'd always thought that marriage was supposed to be about celebrating love and commitment and family, not showing off the cleanliness of your house or who looks better in their bridesmaid's dress. Maybe it was a female thing, because Harry really didn't get it. As the day of the wedding marched closer Molly and Fleur became increasingly incomprehensible and terrifying.

Harry was enjoying the peace of a momentary reprieve from chores. He had just finished washing the windows and he was hoping to avoid Molly for as long as possible so she couldn't assign him another task to do. At the very least, he wanted to finish his tea first.

He sighed in contentment as he took a sip, enjoying the sensation of the summer sunshine on his shoulders.

His peaceful moment was ruined only a few minutes later when Hermione darted into the kitchen and crouched below the window like a spy on a mission, darting frantic looks around her.

"Harry!" She hissed. "Get down!"

Harry immediately abandoned his tea on the table and threw himself to the floor, crawling up next to Hermione beneath the window.

"What is it?" He whispered frantically. "Death Eaters?"

"No!" Hermione whispered back. "Molly! Come on!"

She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him out of the house. Harry was puzzled but went along with it, trying to step quietly and not be seen by anyone. Hermione had yet to let go of his hand, but Harry was enjoying the contact far too much to mention it.

Together they crept around the house and darted behind the broom shed, then out into the fields, successfully avoiding detection. Hermione pulled him along until the reached a small shady spot several hundred meters from the Burrow, sheltered by thick, tall grass. They both lay down side by side to catch their breath. Hermione finally let go of his hand, much to Harry's disappointment.

"So," said Harry when his breathing had evened out. "What are we doing here?"

"Er," said Hermione, "I had to get us out of there without Molly noticing, because I wanted to ask your help with…uh…a…er…an independent research project." Hermione seemed to grow more and more flustered as she spoke. Her cheeks were flushed and she was looking anywhere but at Harry.

"Er, okay," Harry said, trying to puzzle out Hermione's obvious embarrassment. "What kind of research project?"

"Well," said Hermione, and then launched into what seemed to be a rehearsed speech. "Weddings are a time for beginnings, and new romances, and you know that I really like Ron as more than a friend, and you said that Ron likes me, and now that he's not together with Lavender anymore I thought the wedding would be a good time to…erm…start, something, together, because Voldemort is back and we might all die so I thought it's time to get a move on with this. So obviously I've done lots of research on relationships and the physical aspects of them but in this case I think there's really nothing quite like hands on experience, and I know Ron's had a lot of that with Lavender, and you've had some with Ginny, but the most I've ever done is kiss without tongue, so I'm kind of worried that Ron will be disappointed because I know that the physical part of a relationship is really important to him." Hermione paused to gasp in a breath, while Harry stared at her with wide eyes. He didn't think he'd ever heard anyone say anything quite so quickly before. "First I tried to talk about this with Ginny, but talking about her brother is really weird for her, so I thought, well, who else could I ask, and then I realized, Harry! Because you're a guy so you know what guys like and you're my friend so you won't take it the wrong way or try to take advantage, I always feel really safe with you, and since you're not Ginny I can actually practice with you and it won't be weird."

Harry immediately had a vision of Hermione and Ginny 'practicing' the 'physical part of a relationship' and gulped. Then he had a vision of Hermione and _him_ 'practicing' and shifted his hips uncomfortably.

"So," Harry unsuccessfully tried to pull his thoughts away from the gutter. "You want to research…kissing?"

Hermione beamed a relieved smile at him. "Yes, although not just kissing, I'm a little bit unsure about positioning and erogenous zones as well, so I have some theories I want to test out, if that's okay."

"Um…" This was such a bad idea. Part of him (the lower down part of him) was screaming 'Yes! Do it! Please! She can use us to practice _anything_ she wants! Any time! Any place!' The more rational part of him was wondering how he'd be able to hide his feelings for her in such an intimate situation. Knowing that she was kissing him but thinking about Ron was a whole new kind of torture that even Voldemort would be hard pressed to top.

On the other hand… this might be his only chance to kiss her.

"Okay," said Harry, against his better judgment. "What did you have in mind first?"

"Well… I'd like to test out some of the things I read about." Said Hermione. "If you just…stay lying there, I'll touch you and you tell me if it feels good, alright?"

"Alright," Harry rasped, and then cleared his throat, shifting to lie back more comfortably on the ground.

Hermione sat up and moved to kneel beside him. She grabbed his hand and gently started to explore it with her fingertips, inspecting every part as if it were a puzzle or a piece of art. "Hmm," she mused, "you're definitely hairier than I am, and your skin is a little bit rougher, I think. A book I read said that men's skin is 25% thicker than women's."

"Hmm, interesting," said Harry, trying to ignore her gentle explorations. "But I always knew I was 'Harry-er' than you."

She groaned and slapped his shoulder lightly, and he smiled.

Her fingers moved up his arm and over his shoulder, sliding along his collarbone. She hesitated. "Um… can you take your shirt off? I think it will be easier to see what I'm doing that way."

"Er, sure," Harry sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, putting it between him and the ground before laying back down. He noticed Hermione's gaze was glued to his chest and felt a flush of masculine pride. He was not the scrawny kid he used to be.

She tentatively reached out to trace his abs, which made his stomach quiver a little, before moving up to his pectorals and circling around his nipples, then tracing up his neck to rest just below his ears.

"I read that the ears and scalp are supposed to be really sensitive," she said, tracing the whorls of his ear and gently tugging on the lobe. Harry couldn't help the small sigh that escaped him, and his eyes fluttered closed as he tilted his head to give her better access. He made a soft, contented sound as her nails scraped lightly over his scalp. If he were a cat he would probably be purring, she thought, and smiled.

She spent some time running her fingers through his hair, trying to figure out exactly how much pressure to use. It was shiny and a lot softer than she thought it would be, but it still felt a bit courser than hers.

Feeling daring, since he seemed to be enjoying it so much, Hermione leant down and lightly nipped his earlobe with her teeth, making him gasp and jump.

"I think your book was definitely right," said Harry, as she gently kissed her way down his throat, finding a spot just behind his ear that made him moan if she sucked on it gently.

"Mione," he gasped, "if you're going to leave a hickey best do it somewhere less visible than my neck."

"Alright," she murmured against his throat, "I want to practice that too, how about here?" She moved her mouth down to his collarbone and sucked, making him gasp again.

"That's fine," he rasped and she smiled mischievously at him. She hadn't started this to tease him, but it was actually kind of fun. He had given her permission to do pretty much anything she wanted, and his reactions made her feel very powerful and feminine. He also smelled really, really good, that indefinable boy-smell that always made her want to lean in closer and just inhale.

She sucked and bit at his chest, leaving red marks that made him moan and filled her with a very primal sort of satisfaction.

Harry's head was spinning. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. She hadn't even kissed him yet and he felt like he'd never been more turned on in his life. He kept his eyes closed, trying to control his reaction to her, or at least hide it, but it was like trying to stop a river with a butterfly net. The feelings she was creating in his body washed over him, making every nerve ending ultra sensitive.

Hermione shifted her attention even further down, contemplating his small, brown nipples. She leaned forward and gave one a tentative lick. Harry moaned her name and arched up off the ground. His hands lay fisted in the grass beside him, desperate for something to anchor himself. His nipple grew wet and hard from her attentions. She sucked gently, flicked him with her tongue, cataloguing every gasp and moan for future analysis. She blew lightly, to dry him off, and he whimpered.

She turned her attentions to his other nipple, knowing she had no real reason to experiment on the same area twice, but she was enjoying his reactions far too much to stop. This had become a lot less clinical than she had intended it to be. She was definitely learning a lot, but that had somehow become less important than making Harry feel good. She was so grateful to him for letting her use his body this way. Anyone else would have made fun of her inexperience or tried to take advantage of her, but she always felt safe with Harry.

She kissed her way down his abdomen, following the trail of hair that seemed to have been put there just to entice her downwards. She traced her tongue along the skin just above his jeans. She'd read that the lower abdomen was a very sensitive area for men. She had expected that with so much licking and sucking she would start to be grossed out by all the saliva, but she discovered that she actually didn't mind. And neither did Harry, apparently.

He tasted salty, and his skin was hot under her mouth.

Harry's knuckles were white with the effort it took not to reach for her, to run his hands through her hair and move her head just a little lower… He'd completely given up on trying to be quiet now, he was completely focused on keeping his hands at his sides. Hermione was definitely less experienced than Ginny, but her touch seemed to give him twice as much pleasure, simply because she was _Hermione_, and he'd been in love with her for years.

Hermione leaned back on her heels, contemplating the picture Harry made lying there on the grass. His skin was flushed and slightly damp, his nipples puckered and his chest heaving. His fists were clenched in the grass, all the muscles in his arms clearly defined. His head was thrown back and his lips were slightly parted as he panted. His eyes were still closed, long eyelashes dark against his high cheekbones. His hair was even messier than usual, because of _her_ hands. Hermione gulped and fought a rush of desire. He looked like pure sex, all restrained power and wild passion. She'd never really understood why some women found power to be an aphrodisiac, but she understood now. All that strength, docile under her hands, hers to do with as she pleased.

_He's not yours, _she reminded herself. _He is right now,_ whispered another voice in the back of her mind. _Right now, he'd probably let you do anything… _Hermione contemplated undoing his trousers and exploring down there, too…_I wonder what his face would look like if I made him come?_

But no, that would be going much farther than she had intended to go. She was just practicing on Harry so that she wouldn't disappoint Ron. She didn't want to push the boundaries of their friendship too far.

Harry's eyes fluttered open and suddenly her fantasies took a completely different turn. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, and he was staring at her like she was a piece of treacle tart and he hadn't eaten in days. There was a look of such desperate, unguarded desire, and adoration, and maybe a little bit of awe in his eyes that she felt slightly shaken. She wondered what it would be like if their positions were reversed, if she were completely under his control, his to do with as he wished. The thought made her shiver with desire and liquid heat start to pool between her legs.

"Hermione?" He asked, voice low and rough, "What now?"

_What now, indeed._ Hermione took a deep breath to gather her thoughts. "Well, I'd like to practice kissing now, if that's okay?"

"Sure," Harry said, "just, um, just give me a minute."

Harry propped himself up on his elbows, tilting his head back and closing his eyes to enjoy the sunshine and try to get himself back under control. Hermione was transfixed by the way the sunlight caressed the lines of his body. She wanted to kiss his neck again.

Hermione was troubled to realize that this little research project was going to have consequences that she definitely hadn't anticipated. Before this, she had never really thought of Harry as a sexual being, but now she couldn't seem to _stop_ thinking of him that way. She had known he was attractive, in an abstract sort of way, he had tons of girls chasing after him, and she'd certainly listened to Ginny wax poetic about his many admirable features far too many times. But now she couldn't help but notice the strong line of his jaw, the breadth of his shoulders and strength in his arms. The gorgeous colour of his eyes. The tantalizing shadows beneath his hip bones. The freckle beside his navel.

Kissing him would be a really bad idea.

But she'd come this far, and if she turned back now she wouldn't get this chance again. Hermione hated going into any situation unprepared, and the only way to avoid any awkwardness with Ron was to practice. Besides, if she backed out now, Harry would know something had changed.

Hermione summoned her courage, took a deep breath and leaned over until her lips were a few centimeters from Harry's. "Ready?" She whispered.

Harry drew in a shaky breath. "Ready," he replied, heart racing.

She gently brushed her lips against his, trying to figure out how much pressure to use and where to put her nose. She tried a slightly different angle, and that seemed to work better. Hermione felt Harry's lips part slightly beneath hers and she got a little worried, he didn't seem to breathing. She pulled back, concerned.

"Alright?" She asked.

"Fine," he breathed, "but I think this would be easier if I sat up."

Harry sat up and folded his legs underneath him, then hesitated. "Er, the most comfortable way to do this would be if you sat on my lap."

"Alright," said Hermione and then awkwardly straddled his thighs. "Am I too heavy?"

"No, it would only be uncomfortable if you stayed there for hours, for a little while it's fine."

Hermione put her hands on his still bare shoulders to steady herself. This position raised her lips a few centimeters above Harry's. She slid forwards a little bit and gasped when the most sensitive part of her body brushed up against something that was much too thick to be his wand.

Harry blushed. "Um…sorry, just ignore that, happens all the time, it'll go away in a while…"

Hermione was almost as red as he was. She glanced down and saw him straining against his trousers. "Does it…hurt? If you don't do something about it?"

"No, I barely even notice it," he lied, "it happens all the time, really, don't worry about it."

"Alright," she said doubtfully. Her gaze refocused on his lips. They looked really soft. "Should we try this again?"

This time he initiated the kiss, reaching up to cradle her cheek and lightly brush his lips against hers. "Start really gently," he whispered, "tease a little." He kissed the corner of her mouth then returned to her lips. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, letting him take control. He kissed her slowly, almost lovingly, letting her enjoy just being so close together. She hummed softly with pleasure. He slowly coaxed her mouth open, then slipped his tongue inside and deepened the kiss. One of his hands threaded through her hair, holding the back of her head to change the angle of the kiss, while his other hand rubbed slowly up and down her back and ribcage, tracing the curve of her waist. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as her world narrowed to every place their bodies touched. She leaned in as close as she could. Her breasts brushed against his chest and made them both shiver. His mouth was warm and wet against hers, and she thought she'd never felt anything so wonderful and intimate. Her kiss with Viktor had been nothing like this. This was gentle but still passionate, unhurried and lingering. She felt safe and cherished. Beautiful.

She figured out how to breath through her nose, how to move her lips the same way he was, how to explore his mouth with her tongue, when to suck and when to nibble lightly.

When Harry pulled back, it felt like they'd been kissing for an eternity but it still wasn't long enough. Her head was spinning and her lips her tingling pleasantly.

Harry smiled with satisfaction. "I think you've definitely got it now."

Hermione smiled back at him, still dazed. She'd never known kissing could be like that, if she had she would have kissed Harry years ago.

No wait, she was in love with _Ron_, not Harry, she would have kissed _Ron_ years ago.

When she kissed Ron it would probably feel even better.

"Thank you," she whispered, and leaned her forehead to rest against his. "You are a _very_ good teacher."

Harry smiled and kissed her again, and she let him, neither really wanting the moment to end.

After one last, lingering kiss under the summer sun, Hermione stood up and walked back to the Burrow. Harry stayed behind for a few minutes, telling her that it would be suspicious if they came back at the same time.

He shook the dirt off of his shirt and slipped it back on, then sat back down on the ground with his head in his hands, trying to will his erection away.

That had been the best kiss of his life. And she'd only been practicing for someone else. He had poured every ounce of love he felt for her into that kiss, but she hadn't recognized it for what it was.

It was a full hour before he felt well enough to return to the Burrow.

* * *

Several days later, when the wedding was interrupted by Death Eaters and they had to flee before Hermione had the chance to kiss Ron, Harry couldn't help but feel a little bit of vindictive pleasure.

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**A/N: Poor Harry, don't worry, things will get better for him. If you're enjoying the story so far, write a quick review and let me know, even reviews with just a happy face will make me happy.**

** :)**

**Also, I feel like my title for this story is really uninspired, if anyone can come up with something better I'll write a story request for them.**


	3. Warm

**A/N: Hi everyone, it's been a little while but I finally have enough energy to start writing again. Lyme disease is a b*tch. Here is a short chapter, and hopefully more will come very soon.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who suggested a new title, there were quite a few good possibilities, but eventually I had either a stroke of genius or just a stroke, and decided that I should work with the name I already have instead of fighting my muse. Therefor, every chapter will be paired with a song, (Harmony, get it?) usually one I listened to while writing it.**

**The section in italics in the beginning is taken directly from the Deathly Hallows, which obviously, I did not write.**

**Song: Out of Tune, by Sarah McLachlan**

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"_Then GO!" roared Harry. "Go back to them, pretend you've got over your spattergroit and Mummy'll be able to feed you up and – "_

_Ron made a sudden movement: Harry reacted, but before either wand was clear of its owner's pocket, Hermione raised her own._

"_Protego!" she cried, and an invisible shield expanded between her and Harry on one side and Ron on the other; all of them were forced backwards a few steps by the strength of the spell and Harry and Ron glared at each other from either side of the transparent barrier as though they were seeing each other clearly for the first time. Harry felt a corrosive hatred towards Ron: something had broken between them._

"_Leave the Horcrux," Harry said._

_Ron wrenched the chain from over his head and cast the locket into a nearby chair. He turned to Hermione._

"_What are you doing?"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Are you staying, or what?"_

"_I…" She looked anguished. "Yes – yes, I'm staying. Ron we said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd help –"_

"_I get it. You choose him."_

"_Ron, no – please – come back, come back!"_

_She was impeded by her own Shield Charm; by the time she had removed it, he had already stormed into the night. Harry stood quite still and silent, listening to her sobbing and calling Ron's name amongst the trees._

_After a few minutes she returned, her sopping hair plastered to her face._

"_He's g-g-gone! Disapparated!"_

_She threw herself into a chair, curled up and started to cry._

Harry didn't know whether to scream in anger or collapse into a puddle of guilt and despair and loneliness. He couldn't believe that as soon as things had gotten a little tough, Ron had just _abandoned_ them.

There was a tight ball of fury and hurt and _emotion_ coiled up in his chest, and he had no idea what to do with it.

After a while Hermione's sobs managed to penetrate the rushing sound in his ears. He stumbled over to her chair and picked up her shivering, soaking wet body. As much as Ron's actions had hurt him, they had hurt Hermione even more, and Harry didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive him for making her cry this way. Every heart-wrenching gasp and sob made his resolve harden further, compressing the ball in his chest until he felt nothing for his ex-friend but cold, hard fury.

Harry gently placed Hermione down on her bed and removed her shoes. She curled into a ball around her pillow, wet hair dripping down her back. Harry hesitated, but when he saw her shivering he slowly and gently coaxed her out of her jacket, then her jeans and socks, and finally her t-shirt.

He covered her shaking body with the quilt, but she continued shivering. Harry bit his lip in indecision, he didn't know if she was shivering because she was still cold, or if it was just because she was so upset. He quickly decided on a course of action and changed into his pyjamas. Whether she was hypothermic or just upset, staying close to her could only help.

Harry hesitantly climbed into the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. After a moment, she turned over and buried her head in his shirt. He tightened his arms around her and bent his head down to place a kiss on her wet hair.

He rubbed her back, the same way he had the last time she cried in his arms. He wished that, for once, he could hold her when she wasn't crying.

Slowly she stopped sobbing and shivering, and her breaths became soft and even, trying to match his.

"How could he?" She whispered.

"I don't know," Harry replied softly. "I don't know."

"I thought…well, I guess, he didn't feel the same." She said, and a sob escaped her.

"He doesn't deserve you." Harry said quietly, flatly.

They lay together quietly for a few minutes, listening to the rain outside, Hermione taking comfort in Harry's steady heartbeat and warm embrace.

"I'm never going to leave you, you know." She finally said. "No matter how long it takes, or how hard things get, we're going to see this through or die trying."

"I know," Harry whispered. And then, so quietly that she almost couldn't hear him, he breathed, "I don't deserve you either."

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Hermione awoke feeling peaceful and truly warm for the first time in days. Harry's arm was draped over her waist, his other arm under her pillow. His body was curled around hers protectively and his gentle breaths were warm against the back of her neck. He mumbled something in his sleep and pulled her closer, nuzzling into her neck. She couldn't help but smile. He was adorable when he slept, she felt like a giant teddy bear.

Her heart still ached when she thought about what had happened with Ron, but, warm and safe in Harry's arms, she truly felt like everything was going to be okay. She really didn't know what she'd do without him.

Harry shifted slightly behind her, waking up, and she became hyper-aware that something that wasn't his wand was pressed against her arse.

Well. This was a bit awkward.

Harry blearily opened his eyes, and when he realized where he was he simply pressed a chaste kiss to the side of her neck and mumbled, "Morning, 'Mione," before nuzzling against her again and dozing off again.

Hermione smiled. He sounded so sleepy and content that suddenly she couldn't feel awkward. She too closed her eyes and drifted off again, she was so comfortable, and after everything she thought they deserved a lie in.

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**A/N: So, have you completely forgotten what this story is even about? Is my song-chapter pairing idea brilliant or idiotic? Review and let me know :)**


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